


we are the poisoned youth

by asterixn



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Hela!Pepper Potts, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Jewish Character, Jewish Howard Stark, Jewish Tony Stark, Loki wasn't the bad guy in The Avengers, Marvel Norse Lore, Odin (Marvel)'s A+ Parenting, Pepper Potts is Hela, References to Norse Religion & Lore
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-29
Updated: 2019-03-07
Packaged: 2019-06-18 01:10:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15474183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asterixn/pseuds/asterixn
Summary: Tony is only 12 years old when he nearly drowns. Saved by someone named Jormungandr, they become fast friends. Decades later, when a demigod named Loki invades New York, this friendship has consequences when Tony recognizes Loki from the tales his friend has told him, and it changes everything. Avengers AU





	1. Chapter 1

Tony has never been close to his father. So when his mother convinces Howard to bring him along on a business trip, despite his protests, he does his best to keep his distance. Then, when it was finally time to meet the client, Howard had told him to "just stay out of the way," his eyebrows raised in a way that Tony knew meant he better not tell Maria about this. Tony happily complied. His mother's machinations and attempts to get them to bond weren't anything new. After 12 years of nothing, though, Tony doubted that anything she tried would ever work. But Maria was just as stubborn as Howard was, so when she put her foot, like she had when she'd practically ordered Howard to take Tony with him on his business trip to Miami to meet with a client, Howard hadn't bothered with pointless arguments that would get him nowhere. Tony had watched from behind a corner as Howard had nodded his head and said "Sure," all three present well aware that Howard did not mean his words. But as much as Maria tried, she wasn't all that much persistent. If Howard agreed, then that was enough for her, she knew she couldn't do much more than that and she didn't bother to try.  Tony had been avoiding Howard the entire weekend, and when Howard had finally just told him to leave, Tony had the permission he'd been waiting for to hightail it out of here to literally anywhere else.

Tony ended up walking down to the private beach of the resort they were staying at. The ocean appeared to have just reached low tide, from what he could tell, at least. It was practically deserted, but he wasn't surprised. He counted maybe half a dozen men and women attempting to tan themselves and that was it. From his experience, rich people tended to love the aesthetic of the beach, but never actually spent any time there, as if it was beneath them. Instead many hung out as private pools and the like, where they could control everything from what the staff wore to the temperature of the water.

Quickly, because the sand burning his feet, he jogged down to the shore, where the tide met the sand. The water was cool and refreshing. He'd always found the tide of the ocean reassuring, calming. The way the tide came and went and came again, never failing to return. Something he could count on, unlike certain figures in his life.

Tony waded into the water, feeling what had been crisp and hot particles of sand away from the sea, now nothing but a mushy conglomeration of soft sand, broken down rocks, and the occasional piece of seaweed, squish between his toes. His arms fell limp as his hands danced upon the surface of the water, moving along with the ebb and flow of the ocean. Tony waded until the water was high enough to reach just below his chest. He was in the grasp of the sea now. Though he knew enough to be wary of riptides that could very well grab him and not let go until they had dragged him out to sea, he couldn't help but feel calmer here than he ever had under the same roof as his father. Howard had a tendency to yell, and yeah, okay, though he'd never all out _hit_ Tony, his father's harsh words never failed to be enough to haunt him for months — if not years — after he'd originally spoken them.

Tony bent his knees so he could be more fully in the water. He spread his arms out to aid in his flotation as he leaned his head back to stare at the cobalt-blue sky above him. It wasn't a cloudless day, but there few enough of them that with his eyes on the vast blue heavens above, he felt as if he could get lost in them. And he did, he supposed. He stared up there for who-knows-how-long. When he felt a wave coming he'd just lightly jump and glide over it. It was peaceful, and it almost made up for the forced and unsurprisingly fruitless attempt of his mother for him and Howard to bond. _I'm 12 years old,_ Tony thinks bitterly, _if we aren't close at this point, I doubt we'll ever be._ As it often is, his father, whether it's his physical presence or just the thought of him, as the case happens to be, has ruined any semblance of serenity that Tony has. He wasn't able to put any more thought into this though because it was at that moment that a wave, unexpected and huge, way bigger than any of the other waves, came out of nowhere and washed over him, and Tony was pulled underwater.

His eyes were open but unseeing. The water was dark and murky with mud. Tony, helpless, couldn't do a thing. It happened so quickly. His arms and legs flailing, the wave tossed and turned him underwater. He lost all sense of direction. He tried to swim the way he at least thought was up and found nothing but dirt and sand instead. Panic was the only thing he knew, it consumed his mind and left no room for anything else. His throat was burning. He needed air. His lungs cried for oxygen. He put a foot on the ground and pushed as hard as he could towards the opposite direction. He flew through the water and broke free at the surface. He used his arms to keep himself buoyant as he gasped for air, panting.

It took him a second to realize it, but he must have been several dozen meters away from where he had started. Not only that, but it was then that he noticed that he was steadily drifting away from shore. _The wave pushed me into a riptide,_ Tony realized with dread. Lacking enthusiasm, he tried swimming against the current, but, as he had thought, it was futile — the current was too strong, it would only tire him out. He tried shouting for help, but no one heard him. Whether it was because they'd been listening to music or they honestly couldn't hear him, he didn't know.

He tried to keep calm, tried not to panic again, but it was hopeless, he was stuck, drifting further and further by the second. He took a breath, trying to relax his muscles, but when he glanced behind him and saw a wave just as big, if not bigger, than the last, he tensed up immediately. He blanched as he took the biggest breath he could. A second later, he was pulled under.

It was just as dark as before, but here it was deeper, much deeper. He stretched his limbs, all he found was more empty water. He was running out of oxygen. He squinted through the water, trying to find a source of light, the sun, to swim towards. He found nothing. It was at this point that he gave into fear, into panic. What else could he do? This time was different. As horrible as it was, he'd been lucky before. This time he wouldn't be able to reach the surface in time. This time his limbs numbed in the cold water as he lost himself to the void of unconsciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey, hope you guys like this, the next few chapters are already written so updates shouldn't be too sporadic, at least for now. anyway, tell me what you think! i'd love to hear from you!
> 
> thanks for reading!  
> ~nocturnalelia


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony makes a new friend

He was dead.

He was quite sure of it. But as he felt a cool wind blow over him, Tony began to lose faith in that particular hypothesis. He inhaled sharply as his eyes opened blearily. The light was so bright. He stretched and found he was able to use his right hand to block the harsh sunlight from his eyes as he adjusted to it. He blinked rapidly and his vision slowly became more clear. What had happened? He remembered being trapped in the dark of the void, sure he was going to die. Then he was — well then he was just... here. He coughed once, twice, and then used his hands to help push himself up. There was a blurry figure in front of him. As his vision clarified, he was able to make out a young man, older than Tony, surely, but still, he didn't look as if he could be anywhere past 15. His hair was such a dark shade of black, that it reminded Tony of obsidian, of the void he'd been trapped in underwater. He wore plain green swim trunks. He was close enough — only a few feet away from Tony and sitting cross-legged, staring at him — that Tony was able to easily make out his eye color— a shining sea green. He was skinny, almost too skinny really, as if malnourished. His skin was dark and honestly a bit otherworldly. It was a burnished bronze tone, but there were parts of it that seemed to have an almost criss-crossed pattern to it — like scales. The sections of his skin were, well, not glowing exactly, more of a slight luster or sheen of green or blue or even purple in one spot. Who was he? Had he rescued Tony? He wasn't sure, but he definitely wanted to know the answer.

Tony looked around and found that he, along with the other teen, was alone on a relatively small (at least in terms of surface area above the water) boulder that jutted out of the water. It had to maybe 15 feet in diameter, at most. Distantly, he spotted the beach next to the resort he and his father were staying at. It was so far away that the few people on it looked to Tony the size to be the size of ants. He glanced up at the sun, to find its position. Assuming it was the same day, it couldn't be any later than mid-afternoon.

All of a sudden, the teen across from him tilted his head at Tony, smiled, and said "Hi, I'm Jor. Who are you?"

His words brought Tony back to the present. And for the first time, Tony noticed that Jor, whoever he was, was completely dry, like fully. Tony, who had presumably been laying in the hot sun for a little while, had dry skin, but his swim trunks were still at least partially wet, and his hair was certainly still soaked. It plastered to his forehead and Tony pushed it to one side with his left hand, but it didn't distract him from the question at hand. If Tony was still wet, and Jor must have been the one who'd pulled him out of the water, then how was it that Jor was entirely dry? Even his curly black hair was frustratingly dry. It made no logical sense. Of course, that only made Tony more curious.

“Um, yeah uh hi, I’m Tony,” well, eloquence never has been his strong point. “You’re… Jor, you said? Were— were you the one who saved me?” Because of course, someone must have, there’s no way that he’d somehow washed up here on his own, impossible really, someone must have saved him. This almost frail looking teen didn't look as if he could even swim through the rocky waves surrounding the boulder they were on with just him, much less tow another person through them. But as the saying went, once you've eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth. 

Jor blinked and said, "Yeah, I did, didn’t I?," as if only just now realizing it himself.

_ Um, okay?  _ He probably should have said something else, but again, he had no eloquence, like, at all. Tony just said, "I— what— why—  _ how _ ?"

Jor bit his lip and frowned in contemplation as if he didn’t fully understand what Tony was asking. He paused for a second in thought before speaking, "I saw you get swept under, and so I— I helped you."

"Well, okay yeah, I get that, and I do appreciate it, I do, but-"  _ but _ Tony was still confused on how this kid, not much older than him, had pulled him out of the water. Tony must have been at least six feet under — literally — by the time he'd fallen unconscious, not accounting for how deep he'd sunk after he was unconscious. To have swum down and even just found him in the dark and cold water is incredible, but to have grabbed him and brought him to the surface, and swam with him to the closest bit of land? It didn't seem humanly possible for Jor to have done all that. " —but  _ how  _ exactly did you save me? There's no way you could have done it, no offense to you but — I mean — it's just not humanly possible!"

"Oh, yes, I probably should have said," he seemed almost sheepish for some reason, "I'm not human." 

"I'm sorry — what?"

Jor nodded, "I'm not human." He said this as if they were having a completely normal discussion about the weather.

"So, what, you expect me to believe you're some sort of ali-  _ Omigod are you an alien? _ "

Jor frowned in contemplation, “I guess? I’ve… never actually thought of it that way but I was not born on this world, Earth, so that term is technically correct, I suppose.”

Oh, this is... this is... Well, he doesn’t even know what this is,  _ fuck. _ He knew it was physically impossible for a human to have actually done this, especially one of Jor’s physique, but... is he like, actually for real? He must have been, he had to be. That was literally the only possibility, Jor was an alien... Oh my god... 

Tony Stark was a geek, he knew this and would proudly admit to such. He'd seen both  _ Star Wars _ movies more times than he could count and was eagerly awaiting the next movie in the trilogy. He was a huge fan of  _ Star Trek _ and pretty much anything else that involved either space or aliens. He was known to devour media at light speed. Of all people, Tony knew better than most how improbable aliens were, he knew the statistics of Earth-like exoplanets being able to sustain life. But being who he was, he also knew that aliens weren’t exactly impossible either. It was a big universe out there, he’d honestly be more surprised if there wasn’t life out there rather than the other way around. Jor being an alien? Okay, so that that was a bit unbelievable, but if Jor could prove it, then this might just be the most incredible thing that had ever happened to him. So, of course, he had about a million questions.

"Is Jor your real name? Can you prove to me that you're an alien? What planet are you from then? Are you from Mars? Why do you look so human? Is that your real form? How long have you been on Earth? How old are you? Are— agh sorry,” this time Tony was the one who felt sheepish. Jor looked pretty overwhelmed at his myriad of questions.

“Okay,” Tony said, “let's just start with uh, can you prove that you're an alien?"

"I— well," Jor still looked pretty uncertain but he seemed to be doing his best to answer Tony's questions, and honestly Tony did appreciate that, he did, he knew better than most what a motormouth he could be.

Jor started again, “Yes. That is the simple answer. If you saw my true form, there would be no doubt that I am not human. Perhaps you'll recognize my full name, Jormungandr?"

Okay then... "Jormungandr" huh. Tony was pretty certain he did, in fact, recognize it. It sounded like one of those weird unpronounceable names from Norse mythology. He scrunched his eyebrows in concentration, doing his best to remember.

"Wasn't that, like, one of the children of Loki in Norse mythology? But—  those are just myths, and besides, that's still Earthen..."

Jor, or Jormungandr he supposed, simply raised his eyebrows.

"But... no.... you're not telling me.... ?" Tony sent Jor a questioning glance but he only kept his eyebrows raised. "Are— are you saying that the Norse myths are real? But that's not possible..," Norse mythology was full of gods, and Tony wasn't exactly comfortable with that. He was perfectly fine being atheist. It was one of the few things he and his father agreed on. Someone saying that there were actual gods? How many cultures did that invalidate then? Were—

Before he could continue his thoughts, Jor interrupted him with a hand and said, “I don’t really know how godly exactly we are. We live and we die, just as Midgardians, or humans, do.”

_ Huh,  _ “You know, Arthur C. Clarke said that ‘Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic,’” Tony mentioned. If they did have advanced technology or just access to resources that people hundreds of years ago couldn’t imagine, maybe had a longer lifespan, too, it did make sense that the ancient Vikings had called them gods.

Jor smiled, “Yeah? Hmm, I do like that quote, actually,” and Tony knew that he had the right idea.

“Okay, but, hold on. In the myths, wasn’t Jormungandr a giant snake? Why do you look so human?”

Jor leaned back and stared at the sky, “I’ve found that many races in the realms have similar appearances to humans. Me? Not really, but I inherited shapeshifting from my father, so I can blend in pretty much anywhere.” He looked at his hands, “I can get basically anywhere if it’s connected to the ocean, and if I transform then I can be as indistinguishable as I choose to be.”

Tony thought back to the first few things he had noticed about Jormungandr. How dry he was, the patches of skin that looked like scales. Everything made a lot more sense. Tony smiled and asked some more questions. He’d had few friends in his 12 years of life, but right now Jor seemed like he could be, well, Tony wasn’t sure exactly, but  _ something. _

There was something about Jor ( _ and yes, he  _ does  _ remember that he’s talking about an alien, but it’s something else _ ), something that told Tony that this was only the beginning. Of what exactly though? Tony had no idea.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony returns to his resort with Jor

Tony had sat there on that rock just talking for hours. He and Jormungandr had talked about anything and everything. At one point, Tony had asked Jor why and how he’d known that Tony was even there drowning to begin with. From what he’d gathered, at least, Jor’s home was the sea, the entire sea. He was always moving throughout it. For many of the centuries that he’d been imprisoned on Earth, Jor’s mind had been, well, Tony wasn’t sure what the exact term would be for it. Jor had said that it had almost been as if he was slumbering, mindlessly swimming out of instinct, an effect of the magic that had been used to ground him here. Slowly though, he grew more conscious, awake. By around the time the 20th century had begun, Jor had said, he’d been more or less fully aware. But Jor was not omnipresent, and besides, people drowned all the time. According to Jor, it had only been chance. It was just luck that Jor happened to be in the area on this particular day. That he had somehow caught Jor attention long enough that Jor was there to save him when he nearly drowned? Only a coincidence.

 

In all honesty, though, their meeting left Tony feeling strange, special almost. He knew he was smart, he knew he was a prodigy, that was just a fact of life. But Howard had made sure that it was never something he could be proud of. Howard had delighted in reminding him, and often proving to him on multiple occasions, that there was always going to be someone better out there, that he would never, _ ever _ be enough. Tony had very few actual friends that Howard hadn’t picked out himself, but Jor was someone only Tony knew about. Over the course of their admittedly long conversation and time together that first day, they became something like friends. And Tony cherished this, loved that he had someone to himself for once, someone his father did know about. He supposed that his mother and he had been close for a while, but as Maria began to take Howard’s side one too many times, their relationship had become strained. The only person he’d ever really had to himself was lovingly named “Aunt” Peggy. She wasn’t really his aunt, of course, but she was a close friend of the family. Though she and Howard, to Tony’s delight, had grown apart in the years he’d known her. Now on the few occasions she stopped by, which had sadly grown farther and farther apart since around his 8th birthday, it was for Tony and only Tony. But work came first for her. At this point in his life, he only ever saw her once or twice a year, which made her less than reliable.

 

Tony had known Jormungandr for less than aa day, and already he was dreading good-bye. There was something about, a calming effect almost, that made Tony more comfortable with Jor than nearly anyone else he’d ever met. Still, he watched nervously as the sun moved across the sky and away from the ocean West. As the seconds ticked by, Tony found he almost couldn’t stomach the idea of never seeing Jor again. Nevertheless, as the sky began to turn orange in color with the sunset, Tony knew it was way past time to go back. The longer he stayed out, the more angry Howard would get. 

 

“Um Jor?” Tony said after Jormungandr had finished his train of thought, something about his annoyance yet simultaneous awe of time zones. “Sorry, but it’s getting late, I should probably go.” Internally, Tony was vexed, he hadn’t been sure how to word that exactly and to him, at least, it almost sounded as if he was rejecting Jor, which was the opposite of what Tony wanted to do. Thankfully though, other than a slight frown in disappointment, Jor seemed to get what he meant. Jor nodded his head once in understanding before his eyes drifted to shore. 

 

Tony hurried to add, “It’s not like I don’t want to see you again, you’re my  _ friend, _ now Jor. You saved my life, so I wanna be here for you if you ever need it.”

 

At the word “friend,” Jor looked up at him, an indiscernible expression on his face. Slowly, it morphed into something resembling maybe awe or surprise.

 

“I— ” Jor started, “I don’t think I’ve ever had a friend before, just my mother, father, and siblings.”

 

Tony thought on what Jor had said earlier. It had sounded like Jor had only been free for a few short years before he’d been cast by the Asgardians into the sea for no reason other than what he  _ might _ do. Jor hadn’t elaborated further than that, and Tony hadn’t pressed. As socially-deprived as he was, even he could tell that it must have been a painful memory. 

 

“Well,” Tony said, “now you have me, and trust me when I say I’m not going away anytime soon. Er— except for now, I mean. Actually, do you think you could help me get back to shore, it’s — uh — a bit far?”

 

Jor smiled wider than Tony thought possible and said, “Alright, sure. Are ready to see my true form, then? We can get back quickest, that way.”

 

In all the time they had talked, they hadn’t actually left the rock. Though Jor had briefly described his serpentine form to Tony, it was one of those things about Jor that, like his age, was honestly pretty impossible to comprehend. Tony knew that his form was in varying shades of green, blue, and purple, as well as that it was enormous (duh), but not much else. So of course, he was elated to have the opportunity to see Jor as he truly was.

 

A determined smile found its way onto Tony’s face, “Definitely.”

 

Jor smirked at him, “Okay, then, get ready to jump on.”

  
And then Jor backed up until he reached the edge of the boulder. He lifted his arms up and out and fell backward into the dark water. Tony ran to the edge in time to catch a glimpse of Jor for a second, sinking farther and farther and farther into the sea until he disappeared completely. He kept his eyes on the water for several seconds, desperately hoping to find Jor reappear above the water. In the fading light, though, Tony thought he saw a dark mass begin to form in the water. It writhed back and forth, twisting and turning in every direction as it grew bigger and bigger and  _ bigger _ . It kept expanding steadily until it reached a size incomprehensible to Tony’s brain. He thought back to diagrams he’d seen comparing the sizes of creatures in the animal kingdom. Jormungandr must have been longer than a blue whale.

 

Slowly, a fraction of the dark mass began to get larger, not because it was growing in size, but because it was coming closer to the surface of the water. The water below him rippled, and Tony backed up as a fraction of the giant scaled form below surfaced above the water. It rose up to the edge of the boulder in an arc, reminding Tony of the  _ Gateway Arch  _ in St. Louis, only cylindrical.

 

_ Climb on board,  _ said a familiar voice in his head. Tony startled as he realized it was Jormungandr speaking to him telepathically.

 

Tony looked at the scaly form only a few feet away from him. Jor was truly gigantic, but also strangely mesmerizing. For the most part, his scales were an elegant vibrant green that shined like emeralds, but there were some portions of scales that drifted into darker tones closer to blue, and a few sections where there were scales tinged crimson or violet. 

Tony bit his lip and took a step forward. Jormungandr reminded him of the stories he’d read about sirens, creatures that would draw you in with their otherworldly allure and then strike when you were least expecting it. Like earlier, Jor still seemed to exude that calming aura, but even without out that, Tony felt as if he could trust Jormungandr with anything, even his life. And Tony supposed that he had, in a way, done exactly that. If not for Jor, Tony highly doubted that he would have lived long enough to be standing here right now, Jor had saved him, the least that Tony owed him was his trust.

 

So, hesitantly, Tony took the last few steps to the edge of the boulder. He put his hands on Jormungandr and struggled to find a good grip. Tony put one foot out onto the raised form in front of him and prepared to climb. Quickly, he braced himself as he scurried onto the scales. He was still in his swimsuit and lacked any shoes, so he could feel the scales under his hands as well as under his knees and feet. Tony climbed to the highest point he could find and held as tight as he could. Jor’s scales were the size of dinner plates. They were rough to touch, but not necessarily unpleasant. 

 

“Alright,” Tony called out, not sure where exactly to direct his voice or if Jor could even hear him at all, “I’m ready.”

 

A few seconds passed and they still weren’t moving, so Tony got ready to repeat himself when all of a sudden they started moving through the water, soaring really. Though it felt fast at first, they continued to accelerate until that first speed was a distant memory of moving at a snail’s pace. As Tony’s face was splashed repeatedly by salty seawater a grin broke out on his face. 

 

“Yeah!” He called out in delight to no one in particular, “Whooo!” 

 

Tony hadn’t felt this exhilarated in a long while. Most of Jor’s body was underwater, but Tony and his small stretch of scales were kept just above the surface. He felt overjoyed. He never wanted this feeling to stop. 

 

Sadly, in no time at all, they reached the beach. Gracefully, Jor slowed to a stop. Tony wasn’t sure how far they were from the beach, they were still a bit far out in the relatively deep water, but it was certainly close enough that Tony would have no trouble swimming back.

 

“Thank you,” Tony said gratefully as he slid off the scales and into the water. He took long strokes and reached the shore in a matter of seconds. He walked up onto the beach until he was far enough that the water couldn’t reach him. He turned around and Jor was gone. The beach was free of bystanders at this hour, which only encouraged him to open his mouth and call out, to yell Jor’s name, to do something,  _ anything _ , except admit to himself that Jor was gone, that he might not have even been real.

 

Before he could do anything, though, a voice from a few feet away on his left side called out, “How was that?”

 

Tony startled so bad he nearly fell over, which made Jor chuckle. He’d come out of nowhere, and he was in his human form again, almost identical to how he’d been before. Weirdly,  he was wearing different clothes. Instead of a swimsuit, he has on light blue jeans and a green hoodie. He still lacked shoes and his hair was windswept. But the hoodie covered up the patches that resembled scales on his skin, and with it, he looked like any other teenager. 

 

“I thought you’d left,” Tony stated, not sure what else to say.

 

“I couldn’t leave,” Jor stated plainly, “we’re friends now, like you said, I had to make sure you got to the shore okay.”

 

Tony smiled, “Thanks, I should still probably go, though.”

 

“Of course,” Jor said, and for some reason, Tony thought he’d put up more of a fight, but instead he simply stepped back as if to return to the ocean the same way he’d come.

 

“Wait!” Tony called, and Jormungandr stopped immediately, frozen. “I’m leaving tomorrow morning, how can I contact you?”

 

Jormungandr paused, “Anywhere the sea meets the Earth, I’ll be there. Just call my name, and I’ll be there. I can go further into land-locked areas, but I’d have to physically get there.”

 

“I — okay,” Tony said, and maybe for once it actually is. “Thank you, again, Jormungandr, I’ll talk to you as soon as I can.” And he meant it, he really, really meant it.

 

“Bye!” Tony waved goodbye one last time before turning around to head back inside, a towel wrapped around his waist.

 

“Good-bye!” Another voice called, and Tony didn’t need to turn to know who it was, instead he let a smile creep its way onto his face, and let himself be happy for the first time in weeks.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> time passes and things happen

Tony did not see Jormungandr for several months.

 

When he’d first met Jor at the resort in Miami, it had been at the end of summer. It wasn’t long after he’d gotten back to New York that his school term had begun. His father had shipped him straight off to boarding school within a fortnight of returning.

 

When he finally came back home for break in late December, his father wasn’t even there— not that he cared. According to his mother, Howard was in China for business and wouldn’t be back until after New Year’s. It wasn’t the first time they weren’t celebrating the holidays together, and Tony had no doubt that it wouldn’t be the last. Tony had distant memories of being with his father and mother, watching the ball drop in Times Square New Year’s eve. That was years ago. They never celebrated Christmas, and Howard had long since stopped celebrating Hanukkah, as well as any other Jewish holidays.

 

Out of spite, Tony had celebrated Hanukkah one year. When he’d found that he enjoyed it, it became an annual thing, along with Passover, Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur, Purim, and the occasional Shabbat. It was always just him and a few crude robots that he’d programmed, but that never stopped him from enjoying it. It made him feel close to his grandparents — Howard’s parents that is, German Jews who’d immigrated in the early 1900s and had died long before Tony’d been born.

 

It was December 23, 1982. Christmas was two days away. Maria had locked herself in her room and Howard wasn’t even in the country. August had been practically forever ago, he wasn’t sure whether Jor had been real, or if he’d been some sort of half-hearted hallucination. Nevertheless, Tony had wanted to be anywhere but there. He found Jarvis, the family butler, and asked him to drive Tony to the beach. Jarvis, more a familial figure than Howard had ever been, complied happily.

 

Tony left Jarvis in the car reading the _ New York Times  _ as he went off alone down the beach. It was a brisk December afternoon, but warmer than the past few days had been. It had already snowed twice this season and winter had long since come. The sky was a brilliant blue and the waves of the ocean crashed on the sand, apathetic to the lack of people on the beach.

 

Tony ambled down the beach until he was only a foot or so from where the water met the sand.

 

He closed his eyes for a second before opening them again and said in a clear voice, “Jor— Jormungandr? Are — are you there?”

 

Tony bit his lip, but as he gazed out into the icy blue water, he spotted something emerging from some ripples in the water a few meters away from him. Slowly, a head of curly black hair emerged from the water, completely dry. It was soon followed by burnished bronze shoulders and torso, and finally legs and feet. He didn’t look a day older than the last time Tony had seen him. It was Jor.

 

“Jor…” Tony whispered, he hadn’t dared to believe that Jor was definitely going to show.

 

Jormungandr smiled, “Tony, haven’t seen you in while.” 

 

And so went their second meeting. They talked for nearly half an hour before Jarvis eventually called from the car that it was time to leave, as Maria would still be expecting them for dinner. Tony hugged him goodbye.

 

Tony and Jor met several times more during that winter break, before saying goodbye until Tony’s spring break in a few months. They kept meeting, whenever they could, just like that, and became best friends. 

 

Jor told Tony about his love for comics and slight obsession with Superman. In turn Tony told Jor about his passion for  _ Star Wars, Star Trek  _ and science fiction in general. They found they were both ginormous geeks. When  _ Return of the Jedi  _ came out just before Tony’s 13th birthday, they ended up seeing it together. In 1984, when  _ The Terminator _ came out, they ended up doing the same. 

 

As they grew closer, Jor confided in Tony how much he missed his father, mother, and siblings.

 

It was a warm summer evening as Jor said sadly, “Sleipnir is bound in Asgard, and Fenrir is incarcerated on Lyngvi. Hela is trapped in Helheim, and I’m stuck here of Earth, with no way to leave,” Jor had then glanced at Tony. “Earth is my home, you know that as well as I do, but it’s also my prison.”

 

Tony looked at him, “I know, it’s fine, Jor. But, what about your mom and dad?”

 

“My mother is dead, slain by the Asgardians, and Father… He was forbidden to see us, he’s just as trapped as we are. But if I had to be imprisoned anywhere, Tony, I’m glad it’s here with you.”

 

Tony smiled at his words as he moved the conversation towards a lighter subject.

 

Over time, their friendship only strengthened. As they age, their bond grew with them and they became ever closer. Jor had forged documents and bought an apartment in New York City so it wasn’t long before it became easier to hang out.

 

-

 

Tony was 15 when he entered MIT. He was the youngest one there by several years. Unlike his previous boarding schools, though, MIT was near the ocean. He visited Jor almost every weekend, and sometimes they hung out together in Boston. But college is where things start to change. For the first time in his life, Tony had a friend become almost as close to him as Jor had. Rhodey was three years older than Tony, but that didn’t stop them from becoming instant friends. Rhodey got Tony’s humor, unlike anyone other than Jormungandr has before. Rhodey also didn’t have the best relationship with his father, either, which was something Jor could never relate to him about. It felt indescribable to have someone understand the conflicting feelings of simultaneously wanting to make someone proud while hating their guts.

 

As close as they were, though, Tony never told Rhodey about Jor. It wasn’t because he didn’t think Rhodey would believe him. After all, it wasn’t like he couldn’t just show Rhodey Jor’s true form. It wasn’t that Rhodey wasn’t trustworthy either. No, if anything it was a lack of self-esteem. Jor was Tony’s best friend, but Tony hadn’t had the best experiences with people in his life so far. If Tony introduced Jor to Rhodey, than it would almost be as if Jor didn’t need Tony anymore, and he couldn’t bear the thought of it. 

 

So Tony never introduced his two best friends, and as Jor never showed any interest in meeting Tony’s other friends, there was never any need to.

 

-

 

In 1991, Tony Stark turns 21.

 

In 1991, Howard and Maria Stark die in a car accident. 

 

In 1991, Tony Stark feels nothing.

 

He wonders if he’s a terrible person, if there’s something wrong with him. Who feels nothing when their parents die? Tony is apathetic, he’s disappointed he was never able to prove himself to his parents, at the lost opportunity. He mourns their lack of a relationship, they’d never really had a chance to be a family. But never does he shed a single tear for either one of them. Even Maria had become distant in the past decade or so.

 

In the clarity of their death, Tony saw his life for what it was. Howard had been neglectful at best, verbally and emotionally abusive at worst. Maria had always been inattentive, but her disregard for him had only grown as he got older. If anyone was neglectful, it was her.

 

His only real parental figures had been Aunt Peggy and Jarvis. He’d rarely even gotten to see Aunt Peggy, scarcely once or twice a year. Now, last he’d heard, she’d been showing signs of early onset Alzheimer's. His last remaining family was the single fatherly figure he’d ever known, Edwin Jarvis. Tony’s most vivid memories of Jarvis was him consoling his seven-year-old self after one of Howard’s more violent outbursts. But even Jarvis was getting on his years. Tony wasn’t blind enough to think that Jarvis would live forever. But he’d always been there, and Tony couldn’t imagine him ever not.

 

The funeral is quiet, private. Rhodey is halfway across the world on a military deployment, Tony wonders if he’s heard the news yet. Tony hasn’t even told Jor yet that Howard was dead.

 

After his childhood, Tony is no stranger to alcohol. He had seen more than his fair share of Howard’s drunken rages and had never been in a hurry to try it himself.

 

But now he’s 21. He can legally drink,  _ so why the fuck not? _

 

That night he drinks until he physically can’t handle anymore, and not for lack of trying.

 

He’s a mess.

 

And worst of all, he feels so _ alone. _


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tony endures the aftermath of his parents' death and some backstory is revealed

Jarvis is dead within a few years and Tony, besides Jormungandr, is alone.

Obadiah, who he supposes he's known since he was in diapers — even if they didn't actually interact that much, if at all — steps in as a father-figure after Jarvis dies. He's better than Howard, but nowhere near Jarvis. He tried to be supportive — Tony'll give him that, he certainly tried a hell of a lot harder than Howard ever did — but they just don't click. They form sort of a mutual understanding. Tony builds weapons and Obie leaves him alone. Tony doesn't screw up too publicly and Obadiah handles most of the more tedious aspects of running a Fortune 500 company. That's just fine with Tony. He doesn't need another person who'll only end up leaving him or just plain being disappointed in him every second of every day. He's not sure which feels worse anymore.

There's still Rhodey, of course. He's funny and easy to get along with and is actually a surprisingly good drinking buddy, but Tony has known for a while now that his first priority will always be the United States military. If ever came down to it, between Tony and the military, Tony knows that Rhodey would pick the military. Every single goddamn time. It's okay, it just means that Rhodey will never truly be able to close that gap between them that Tony's not sure he ever even realized was there.

Aunt Peggy is still alive, and he does visit her whenever he can, but at this point, the Alzheimer's has fully set in. Sometimes she'll have clarity and recognize him. Sometimes she won't. Worst of all, though, are the days when she looks at him and sees not Tony but Howard. Tony is well aware of his resemblance to Howard, and it is far from the first time that someone has compared how he looks now to how Howard looked when he was young. But this is the first time that someone he cares about has ever genuinely mistook him for Howard. That is what hurts most of all whenever he sees Aunt Peggy.

When it had happened the first time, he'd gone home and had a breakdown. To this day he only visited her every so often. It was more than he could handle to have the woman who'd been more of a mother to him than Maria ever had been looking at him and see the man he'd despised for over two decades at this point.

The only reason he'd managed to maintain some degree of sanity is Jor. As the years flew by, Jor had visibly aged with him, matured by his side. They'd practically grown up together. Tony even had a theory of sorts regarding his strange, non-linear way of aging. Jor was a shapeshifter, it was in his blood and it came as easy and natural to him as breathing did to Tony. So it made sense to him that Jor's body would only age as fast as his brain learned and took in more information. In hundreds of years, Jor had only aged the few years he had due to how subdued he was in that time. According to him, he'd been in an almost meditative state to help pass the time. He'd been in a dormant state all those years, sleeping for decades at a time as even regular snakes only needed to eat once in a while. He could only seem to remember it in flashes, and even then, details were scarce. For all intents and purposes, Jor had been exactly what he'd appeared to be at the time of their meeting — a 13-year-old child.

Over the years, Jor had become a slight young man. He was handsome, with sharp features and an immaculate jaw. Around the time Tony was 15, Jor had started acting strange— uncomfortable, almost. It wasn't until a few days later when she'd tried shifting his form that, as she'd later explained to Tony, she'd felt like herself again. Jormungandr was a shapeshifter, he was fluid, as had his father been, too, apparently, and he just wasn't confined by a single, uniform gender. Most of the time, Jor was pretty solidly male, but others times he felt more female. Sometimes just in between. As Tony would later discover, it wasn't even as uncommon as one would think, especially for marine life. Clownfish were hermaphrodites and could quite literally change their gender to ensure reproduction. Many other fish and assorted creatures displayed similar traits. In all honesty, it made more sense to Tony for Jormungandr to be genderfluid than not.

Of course, it was through this that Tony later realized that he was pansexual. As he'd noted before, Jor was handsome. Jor was also gorgeous and intellectual and geeky. They knew each other better than themselves. In hindsight, it was hard to imagine a world where they had not, in one way or another, gotten together, at least for a little while.

Their relationship was fire and passion. They fit together a way neither of them had ever imagined possible. In the six months they'd been together when Tony was 21 and Jor was more or less the same, they spent more time together than they ever had before — they were so much closer than they'd ever been before. It was a passionate kiss and rough snuggle, falling asleep on each other's chests and cuddling together to share body heat. It was a burning flame, warm and life-giving, but like any flame, it wasn't destined to last forever.

In the weeks after Tony's parents died, Tony became isolated and withdrawn. Soon everyone, even Jormungandr, was shut out. Just like that, their relationship ended. It was a harsh and sudden end, neither of them would all right for a while. During that time, Tony was more alone than he'd ever been in his life.

Still, time heals most wounds, and it was a brisk December day when Tony stepped barefoot into the icy sea, numb to cold, and hugged Jormungandr for the first time in weeks. After that, they were back to being as close as friends could be, but they never did become romantically involved again. Over the harsh Winter, their feelings for each other had shifted into more platonic ones, but still just as strong. But that was okay, because Tony didn't need romance, he needed a friend.

And so the years pass, and Tony no longer feels so alone. People come in and out of his life, but Jor stays.

And then he meets a woman named Pepper Potts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey, all, i had some writer's block and school actually hates me, but im still here, don't worry
> 
> one more thing, though, before i go. i don't know if i've ever outright stated it on here, but i'm jewish, and the mass shooting that occurred yesterday hurt a lot. if any of you have been affected by this tragedy so much so that you'd like to talk, im always open so feel free to reach out. otherwise, if you can, i'd really appreciate if you donate any amount you can to the synagogue affected. just google "tree of life synagogue gofundme" and you should find it! all the funds raized go directly to their congregation and will help with repairing physical damages as well as towards the survivors' and victims' families.
> 
> thank you all so much


	6. Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hela refuses to wait for anyone save her, she saves herself

She is born beautiful and intelligent and kind.

 

Or so her father and mother always tell her. 

 

Hela knows the intelligence and kindness parts are true enough, but she’s not so sure about her beauty. For the few short years she is with her family — her mother, father, and brothers — they are not alone. They live may live on the outskirts of society, in the gaps and crawl spaces where it’s never quite just one world or another, but there are still beings, people by the very loosest definition. And when they do they tend to call her weird.

 

Call her an aberration.

 

A freak.

 

A  _ monster. _

 

She is what she is. And maybe a monster is just what she'll always be.

 

On her right side, she has curly dark brown hair, dark enough that, depending on the light, it can appear black as the void. Her skin is a healthy coppery color.  But soon enough her right side bleeds into the horror that is her left side. Her skin loses its color and becomes a pale gray tone, it shrivels and shrinks until her bones poke through. Her thick hair becomes thin and brittle. Her left side appears mildly misshapen and vaguely rotting. But no matter the side, her eyes are always wide and open, questioning.

 

She doesn’t understand why her appearance matters so much or why her worth is so dependent on her it, but she understands that this is power. Her brother Jormungandr has been able to shapeshift at will for as long as she can remember, and Fenrir has always been able to shift between his wolf form and a more humanoid one. The day her father tells her she has a natural affinity for magic and asks her if she would like him to start teaching her, she is overjoyed. She is still young, immature, but she understands that for her to succeed, she needs power, and to have power, she needs magic.

 

She trains and she trains and she trains. The very first thing she learns is the art of illusion, of perception, of manipulating the mind and making it bend to her will. To see and believe whatever she wants someone to is to alter their perception of her, mold herself in their eyes? That is  _ power _ . Hela may be but a child, she understands, but that doesn’t stop her from reveling in it.

 

She is no longer a half-dead deformed freak of a child. When she wants, she becomes the picture of childhood innocence. When she desires it, all anyone around her will see is a small freckled child with curious eyes and hair as red as blood. She delights in this particular art and her father takes pride in her natural ability. Her brothers, Jormungandr and Fenrir, love to give her a myriad of challenges of thing to mold her illusion to. But her mother always smiles sadly, knowingly almost, when she uses this power. Hela wonders if she’ll ever understand why she looks at her with that expression when she uses this particular magic.

 

Later her father will teach her the ancient runes. Loki will teach her the magic that can be found in words and letters and characters, the secrets they guard. They whisper to her like no other, and she takes to them, the building blocks of Yggdrasil and seidr itself, just as well, if not better, than she does with illusion magic.

 

It was just another day, a happy one too, when everything fell apart. Hela remembers playing with her brothers, her father’s angular face smiling down upon them but looking lovingly into her mother’s face. Then a— a loud  _ bang _ . 

 

She doesn’t remember much of what happened after that. The next thing she knew the Asgardians had banished her to Niflheim, trapped her. Hela would never see her father and mother again, at least not for a very, very long time. It was here that she looked over the dishonored dead, those who died of illness or old age. She gave them what little food she had, showed them kindness they had never known before, as she honed her abilities, becoming a true master of  _ seidr. _

 

Hela was only there for a short time, or maybe it was a long while — time is strange in Niflheim — when she decides to rise up from her small domain and make this world, what was supposed to be her prison, her empire. She builds her castle and her hall,  _ Eljudnir.  _ She calls her new kingdom Helheim and rules over it as queen.

 

She does love it here. She has aged well into a young woman and she has always loved being able to be herself, no illusions, no nothing. In Helheim, she finally understands what her mother meant when she would look at her with that face. Her mother was a giantess, after all, a member of the jotunn. Her mother, Angrboda, knew exactly what it was like to be shamed for what you look like, and she had been saddened at the sight of her daughter giving in.

 

As much as she loves it though, having power and authority for the first time in her life, it never stops being a prison. She loves it here, being able to be herself, but no matter what she’ll never be able to leave. It was then that she decided to find a way to get out. 

 

She spends every waking moment in the library of the dead, trying to find a way to escape to Midgard, the one place where the Asgardians might never find her, and maybe even look for her brother, Jormungandr, who had been exiled to Midgard where she had been banished to Niflheim. A deceased human woman named Hera Potts, in particular, helps her learn a lot about the world she is trying to reach. Otherwise, she takes time to meet the recently deceased, learn what she can about the world that has been kept from her for years — for thousands of years really, according to the dead. In truth, she feels as if she’s only been here for a couple long years. Her body itself has aged two decades at most. But she’s been gone from the world for well over a thousand years, it seems. Time is fluid and strange in Niflheim.

 

Finally, after what seemed like years but really, she supposes could be any length of time, her strength in runes pays off when she translates a document older than most of residents in Niflheim. It details how to conjure a portal to another world. Leah, one of her servants and a close friend, helps her gather the ingredients. Eventually, they have everything.

 

“Good-bye, Hela,” Leah says to her as she’s about to step through the portal, “I’ll miss you so much!”

 

They hug, “I’ll miss you, too,” Hela says, “you’ve always been a true friend.”

 

Hela knows that Niflheim will be safe in her absence as she has crowned Leah, to whom Niflheim has always been home, queen. With that thought in mind, she is free to go on, to  _ live _ . 

 

Hela steps through the portal.

 

-

 

She finds herself in a grassy forest, the portal already having closed behind her. The dead have already informed her of the year, 2003, but she’s not sure where exactly she is. Still, she revels in the life around her as if she’s tasting oxygen for the first time.

 

Slowly but surely, she figures out where she is. She had found herself in a place called Virginia, just south of the capital of the country she was in. She knew these places already, of course, she hadn’t skimped on the learning from the deceased, but it was incredible to actually see it first hand.

 

Though it’s surely surreal, she’s sober enough to know to disguise herself. She chooses something similar to her childhood persona — a fair-skinned, freckled woman with red hair and blue eyes. With this illusion implemented, she moves on and builds up the character she has chosen for herself. 

 

She uses magic to falsify paperwork and documents alike. Soon, she is a woman named Virginia Potts, after the place where she first arrived on Midgard, or Earth, she supposes, and the woman who had helped her so much in Niflheim.

 

Hela moves to New York, where she had been told anyone can be anything, and after falsifying a degree, she attains a job at Stark Industries as an accountant. After all her years in Niflheim, she has learned more than enough to hold this job. Her father had always taught her the value in everything, no matter how small or insignificant, and she likes to think she has upheld those values to this day. She’s only had it for a few months when she spots an error in the numbers. If not remedied, it could easily cost the company millions. She brings it up to her supervisor but he, an old balding man in his late 50s, couldn’t care less, much less even believe that she, a young woman who couldn’t possibly be any older than 35, had found an error that Tony Stark himself had missed. It is his disregard for her, for all his employees, that outrages her and convinces her to throw all caution to the wind. She has not come all this way in escaping her prison and attempting to forge an actual  _ life  _ for herself to let this man stop her from doing the best job she can. If she’s going to be fired, which her supervisor seems to be considering at the moment, then so be it. 

 

She scoffs as she turns from him and marches straight up to the elevator. She’s already swiped his keycard and she easily climbed floor after floor to one of the highest floors in the building, where Tony Stark’s office resided. After using her magic to mildly confound the security officers at the door, she sauntered right through the doors and set the printed paper with her annotations down on the table in front of the man himself.

 

“You have some errors in the accounting, here,” Hela says plainly.

 

Tony looks dumbstruck. As she turns to leave, though, he calls out, “Wait, what? Who are you?”

 

“I—” Hela stutters, no longer sure what exactly she’s doing here, “I’m— My name is Virginia Potts, I’m an accountant, and there were some typos in your finances. I— I'm sorry, I should leave, I’m sure I’ve been fired.”

 

Stark’s eyebrows raise as he appraises her.

 

“Well, on the contrary, he says, you’ve just been hired, Pepper Potts.”

 

“I— what?!” Now it’s her time to gawk.

 

“You,” Stark says, “have just been hired as my personal assistant, I need someone who notices the fine details, of, well, everything.”

 

“I— okay? What do you mean by  _ Pepper? _ ”

 

“Oh, I give nicknames to everyone. And don’t worry,” he gives her a smile, “you’ll fit in great.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony is Tony and Hela is Pepper

Now the thing about Tony Stark is that, well, he loves sex, he really, really does. But people? Not so much. Sex is amazing. Sex is making up for all the time he spent despising himself as a child and cowering under his father’s gaze, it’s making up for all the feeling and emotion and  _ adrenaline _ of childhood that his father had deprived him of. People themselves, though, are an entirely different matter. People are confusing and backstabbing and in all honesty pretty horrible. Go ahead, call him a pessimist, see if he cares. There are so few in the world that he knows he can rely on, so maybe it’s better, he thinks, if he doesn’t bother to take the chance at all and sticks with the people who’ve never let him down. People who he knows never will.

 

He’s lived by that rule for years and years. Lived his life avoiding human connection. And yet, somehow, Pepper Potts had managed to make her way into the small circle of people he trusts, despite only knowing him for a fraction of the time he’d known everyone else he was close to. 

 

Sometimes, he wonders if she realizes that every time she finds him half-naked in bed with a woman he pretends to not even know the name of, every time he acts like a total asshole, he's intentionally provoking her. It's not often that someone can tolerate the mess that he is, much less live with it. Because how else is he supposed to know if he can trust her if he doesn’t pull all this stupid shit? As strange as it seems, this is  _ science.  _ Because she’s going to leave eventually, right? They all do, in the end. By betrayal or by death, it doesn’t matter. Everyone except Jormungandr, that is. And Jor isn’t even human.

 

Now all he has to do is wait, wait until she finally has enough of his ungrateful ass and leaves.

 

Except... she doesn't. She sticks with him, through and through. He thinks she might be the most stubborn person he's ever met, other than himself, of course.

 

At this point in his life, he's already finished coding Jarvis and long since finished fully implementing him into his home and security systems. Just A Rather Very Intelligent System, that's what he tells people it stands for. He doesn't think he's met a single person who understood that he had, in truth, named Jarvis after his old family friend, Edwin Jarvis. Jarvis is... more sentient then even he had hoped for, so much more so than most people gave the AI credit for. Still, he was constantly updating him. The best part about Jarvis was how he learned. The longer Jarvis existed, the more information he gathered, the more data he had on human interaction, furthering his own sentience.

 

Often, Tony likes to work on a personal laptop or a computer, pretend to be adding more code and algorithms to expand Jarvis' capabilities. In hindsight, though, he thinks he only uses it as an excuse to spend his time watching Pepper out of the corner of his eye, spying on her as she works. She's his strange new specimen, a mystery for him to unravel.

 

The longer he spends observing, the more he notices. Little tics and fidgets that he doesn’t think even she realizes that she’s doing. How she twirls the stray hairs that escape her tight bun or ponytail, depending on the day. How she bites her lips in annoyance whenever she’s faced with a disheartening amount of paperwork. It’s not just that stuff that he notices though. Before he realizes it, he’s started to notice the way she takes charge, the incredible command that she can wield over other with five words, a lilt in her voice, and a change of tone. He’s noticing the way she seems hesitant to befriend anyone, including him. He’s far from the only person she interacts with during her day, of course, but she never seems to be anything other than polite and cordial. So he pokes and he probs and he dissects the enigma that is Pepper Potts.

 

He understands all this, has contemplated it all often enough, and yet he’s still left dumbstruck when, after watching her brutally annihilate two interns who she had witnessed harassing more than a few of the women down in the marketing department with less than 20 words, ensuring that they would no doubt be fired in a number of hours and now had very low chances of finding employment at any reputable places of business. He stares at Pepper, watching her raise her eyebrows at the terrified men, and says under his breath, “God, I love her.”

 

Well, shit.

 

He loves her.

 

Somehow, it had never occurred to him before that he could possibly be in love with this woman he’d employed all those years ago. Love is hard and stupid and dangerous. The people who you loved were, strangely enough, the ones who had the most ability to hurt you. But he loves her. Actually, truly in love with her. It was a strange feeling. Tony had not loved this deeply since Jormungandr. He’d loved and lost and lusted for all these years and here comes this strange red-haired woman, sauntering into his life. He doesn’t want to be in love. In his experience, love brings nothing but pain.

 

It doesn’t look like he has any choice at this point.


End file.
